Muted Scream
by Andraea Shade
Summary: Removed for Revision - Ch1 remains, somewhat edited. Implied Slash/non-con.


Title: **Muted Scream**  
Category: Anime/Manga » Naruto  
Author: Andraea Shade  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Angst/General  
Published: 08-01-06, Updated: 08-23-10  
Chapters: 8, Words: 12,006

**Chapter 1: Anniversary**

Muted Scream

By Andraea Shade

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine, if it was, no one would read or watch it, it would suck, and, as it does not suck, it cannot be anywhere near being mine. HEH... /666

WARNINGS: This story involves implied RAPE, homosexual and heterosexual themes, NON-CON, minor, but it is NOT graphic. Naruto is VERY OOC.

Draea – Removed most of story and part of chapter 1 for revision and such

Chapter One: Anniversary

On the anniversary of the Kyuubi's attack, the villagers, and even many ninja, had a ritual. The darkest of them, the most hateful and vengeful, would creep upon the apartment of one blonde boy as he slept after the festival. No one would recognize the dried marks on his face, as tracks of tears. He would always cry himself to sleep that night, because he knew this was the time he was most truly hated.

Those hateful would wake him with punches and slaps, holding his body from escape, blocking his mouth from uttering screams. Naruto, the boy, the container protecting them all, would always continue fighting until a shinobi, or a particularly brave villager, held a blade to his neck. The hateful would then beat the silent boy as his tears grew from his eyes again, but he would never utter a sound.

The next morning, he would awaken stiffly, his night's injuries just finishing healing as he went to shower. No one would see the agony behind those bright, masking blue eyes if he could help it. He would smile widely, swear he wouldn't cry, that they would all realize the truth one day, and he would suppress the memory of the night, just to be remembered, but to be weak, seem unimportant. Then, the blonde would plan a prank, and train.

At the age of 13, Naruto had reached a point where he didn't resist; he just silently lay as he was beaten. That morning, he woke and half smiled, his eyes saddened. The last time had been the worst. He had been hurt far more, in far more personal a way than ever before. He frowned slightly, and his eyes flashed near tears, as he remembered.

The last of the villagers had left the bloodied boy laying on his red-soaked futon and all but one of the shinobi had departed. Naruto's bright blue eyes were squinted shut in pain and burning with tears, so he didn't notice the last of the ninja until it was too late. Ties suddenly pulled his ankles and wrists spread-eagle. A dark chuckle reached his ears as a shinobi cloaked in black walked to him. Naruto's eyes widened at a light touch, hands running over the lingering scratches and bruises on his visible flesh.

There was a lot more visible flesh than Naruto usually had, he had slept in him pajamas, but many knives and fists and utterly shredded his shirt, as well as much of him pants. The only area seemingly unharmed has from about mid-thigh to hip. Not even the ones out to get him would stoop that low, until now. The hand ran dangerously close to these regions, pain following as nails tore at scrapes and healing wounds.

Later….

As the last shinobi left he whispered in Naruto's ear, "Now, no tattling. Oh, and buy some orange pajamas for the next time, the weaker you look the better. And trust me. Next time will be even _more _fun."

Naruto curled up in his own dried blood on tears, pain racking his whole body. Those words, those hands, the actions, it was all too much. Agony was all he could think of, and then his mind shut down, his very soul felt empty and gone. He couldn't be so weak as to have let this happen. It was his fault, he thought, 'My fault. My fault. My fault.' He disappeared into his mind and felt wrapped in the anger, the pain, humiliation, and sadness.

Red tails gently lead him to the cage of the Kyuubi. Red eyes stared at the blank eyed boy, the sad eyed boy, he was broken. The Kyuubi pushed Naruto into a soft chair that enveloped him and covered him with one of his red tails of chakra. The equally red, but burning angry, eyes stared in the general direction of Konoha. No one deserved to be broken like this, no one, not even an optimistic, persecuted, boisterous, troublemaking, blackmailing demon jailor. No. Defilement was below even the great demon fox.

Kyuubi spoke to Naruto for hours, healing the scars, but some things were too injured, could only be protected. Eventually, He woke up.

After looking back over the memories, Naruto tried to speak, to groan, but the only sound he made was that of his breathe. After trying to speak for 10 minutes, the boy gave up. With a grimace he picked himself and his bloodied bedding up and carried them to the bathroom. After showering in the cold, unforgiving water, he rinsed the stains from his sheets and covers over and over until they were merely a light pink. He left them to soak in the soapy water and got dressed, at least, he tried to.

Opening the closet he saw orange, and more orange. He was revolted, mind shooting back to the comment his molester made. Shuddering he threw the lot into a large metal trash can, opened his window, turned on his fan, and set them all ablaze. Fishing through the back corner of his closet he came upon the black cargo pants Iruka had given him for Christmas the past year, and a blood red tank top Sakura had given him. After drawing on these garments he felt too light, too unrestricted, so he looked to the bandages Lee had given him as a birthday present, claiming that even if he wouldn't tell them when his birthday was, he would get gifts. Naruto wrapped his arms from mid bicep to mid forearm and pulled on heavy chain mesh, buckle-on sleeves.

The empty-eyed boy looked at his reflection and didn't even blink. Gone was the happiness, gone was the life in his eyes, he was there for one reason, and that was to live so that he could protect those he cared for, he never once remembered that he deserved to live, he didn't think of himself. He lived to protect. Nodding, he pulled on a red bandana and tied his forehead protector over it. After-all, he still had training and missions today, a lot, as Tsunade was attempting to keep up with demands after losing so many.

Draea- Sorry I pulled everything. Trying to leave a sample for when the story is back up.


End file.
